With Pen on Paper, I scribble about people and emotions

Menu

A talk with Mehak Di

Sometime, i feel everything around me is moving in slow motion like in any 80’s Bollywood flick and at the same time i also notice that the time is really slipping out of my fist like sand slips. The whole day, since i moved out from home, was really bad. I could not concentrate at my band practice and later in classes. The conversation was eating up my mind.

Hardik and my other classmate Rahul had judged my mood but still did not talk about it. I had a whole pack of Marlboro and had borrowed few from Jaato. Jaato always have spare in the deep pocket of his black Nike bag.

I had never smoked more than 25 cigarettes in a day before that time. That means i had ashed my almost 2 days pocket-money on these Marlboro.

I was thinking what will happen when i again re-enter my home. Will dad allow me to enter his home or is he still standing in same position as i left him. The more i was thinking about all this, the more questions were popping up in my head. There is direct relation between the tension and the infinite number of questions which pop up when one is in deep trouble.

I had reached Wazirpur Depo and the bus conductor was shouting for people to light at Wazirpur who so ever wanted to. I just stood up from my seat and moved towards the exit of the bus. While moving towards the exit i waved my hand to Hardik and Rahul, who were busy in talking about the next day plan.

My home or better i use my dad’s place is few steps away from the Wazirpur Depo bus stop. But I did not take those limited steps. Rather I preferred to sit at bus stop. I needed a place where hardly anyone bothered for what the other person is doing.

After a few minutes of sitting still at the bus stop, i heard a voice. The voice was calling up my name sweetly. It was none other than my elder sister Mehak’s voice. I immediately check the time. It was around 7 P.M., Di’s returning time from office.

“RachitBhai.” she said shockingly. “What are you doing here? Are you waiting for Meera at this time?”

I stood up and just hugged her as if we were meeting after a long time. I realized how embarrassing is it to hug someone in North Delhi. People started stealing a look on us.

“Bhai, what is the matter? Has she left you?” now she sounded serious. But why can n’t be any other reason for all this.

“Di,,, I don’t know from where to start.” I managed to say, with a single drop on my chick.

“Just wait, let’s move to somewhere else. Let’s go to BTW.”

I gave a positive reply and before I say anything again, she moved ahead of me.

After a few steps, she repeated one of many questions, “What’s the matter, Bhai?”

“I had an argument with dad in morning. And this time I shouted on him.”

“Are you kidding? No, you can not shout on him. Though you can argue with him, but shout on him. I can n’t believe it.” she said shockingly.

I moved my head down as I know i did really wrong. By now, we reached to BTW. Di like ChaatPapri and she ordered two for both of us.

“I got the call from Hardik in the morning and dad was there only…” I narrated the whole story.

“What? Damn, did you really say this to him?” she asked. I again nodded in shame.

“So, you really feeling bad. You are supposed to.”

“I know. Now what can i do?” I asked when again few drops rolled on my chick.

“Well, you can simply go to him and say Sorry to him.” she said calmly.

“It’s not easy, Di.”

“Apologizing makes everything…” she was saying and then interrupted by a man with a smile and a red and yellow colored T-shirt with a logo of BTW.

“Your order, ma’am.” he said in his Hindi accent.

“Thank you.” she replied with eyes opened widely as if she wanted to him to leave immediately.

“So, where was I?” she continued as the man left.

“Oh yes, Apologizing makes everything normal.” she answered her own question. “It will not only provide peace to your mind, but also to whom you are apologizing.”

“But, Di…” She interrupted.

“Common, finish your plate fast, we also have to go to home.” she said and start eating her ChaatPapri.

“Okay Di.” and I also started eating my ChaatPapri.

After moving out from BTW, she advised again to say sorry. “Just say sorry to him. That’s it. Rest we will talk to him later about everything.” she said. And then we reached at home and rang the door bell. “Ding-Dong”